


Friends Over the Bridge

by Fizzgig (Glowbug)



Category: The Critter Room (Blog)
Genre: Gen, Sappy, but that's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 03:31:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4731287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glowbug/pseuds/Fizzgig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Rainbow Bridge Tale (Tail) of Dak the polydactyl</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends Over the Bridge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ktk-in-hi](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ktk-in-hi).



> This is a story for ktk of kitten cam chat, who has lost her beloved kitty. *hugs* to her. Anyone else who wishes to read may, but this story is for her.

The big cat padded over the bright path through the stars. Part of him wanted to run and leap just because he could now—after many, many moon-turns where he had ached all over when he tried. But Dak’s heart weighed him down; he missed his hoomin, who had loved him, fed him, and played with him for as long as he had known her (and that was a very long time indeed).  
  
Still, he couldn’t keep from twitching in excitement when he stepped into the grassy meadow on the far side of the bridge. Celestial mousies bounced along in the sunlight, and somewhere in the distance he could smell fish cooking. The stories of his kittenhood were true: this was paradise.  
  
A tiny squeak caught his attention. “Hello. Why do you have extra toes?”  
  
The big cat looked down at the tiniest snow-white kitten he had ever seen. He was so little that he wouldn’t have been able to run and play yet, except that he was on the far side of the Rainbow Bridge. Little blue eyes looked up at him hopefully. “I don’t know,” Dak answered. “I think I was born like that. Who are you?”  
  
“Peter. I’ve been here almost always. Who are you? Do you have stories about hoomins? Some of my friends have wonderful stories about hoomins, but I came here before I got to know my hoomin very well.” The little kitten sighed. “But I remember he had big warm hands.”  
  
“Dak,” the big cat said. “Yes, I had a hoomin…” He laid his head on his paws. “I miss my hoomin.”  
  
Peter baffed Dak’s cheek with his tiny tongue. “Don’t worry. Auntie Truffles says if you have a very special hoomin, they will always come to see you again someday.”  
  
Dak blinked sadly.  
  
“Will you play with me?” Peter asked. “I like to play. You can come meet all my friends, too.”  
  
“…okay. Are there feather sticks here?”  
  
“Yeah! This way!” The white kitten bounded off, but Dak easily kept up at a walk because of his longer, _not_ aching legs. Before long they came to a tree from which dangled dozens of brightly colored feathers. A woolly gray kitten, slightly bigger than Peter, was already there batting away.  
  
“ _Dis_ ,” Peter said, “is my big sister Honey. Honey, this is Mister Dak. He just came over the bridge.” To Dak he added, “Honey knows how to go down from the stars just for a little while, to play. If you want to visit your hoomin sometime she could show you.”  
  
Honey mewed a greeting and rubbed up under Dak’s chin. He baffed the top of her head. “I’d like that.”  
  
“But first,” Honey said, “get the feather!” She batted the nearest plume in his direction. _“Get the feather!”_  
  
Tiny paws clambered between Dak’s ears as Peter made a flying leap off his head to catch the feather in mid-air. “I gotz it!” he squeaked. “I gotz it!”  
  
“That was Mister Dak’s feather!” Honey protested.  
  
“No! Iz my feather! I _gotz_ it!” Peter squeaked.  
  
_Kittens_. Dak sat back to paw at the dangling feathers. Later he would go check out that tantalizing fish smell, and later still he would ask Honey about looking in on his hoomin from time to time.  
  
After a long play session, he curled up in a soft grassy spot at the base of the tree. He found himself purring.  
  
This was a good place. Already, he had made two new friends (even if they seemed a bit rambunctious to a cat of his age). He could eat and nap and play while he waited here for his hoomin. He could wait as long as he needed to.  
  
Dak—and his beloved hoomin—would be just fine in the end.


End file.
